


Central Bark

by vivalabandoms



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, bc im Projecting, dog park au, fun lil thing i started, i miss other dogs and people, so here's my outlet, this'll be short n sweet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:22:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24257347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vivalabandoms/pseuds/vivalabandoms
Summary: modern newsies au where everyone has dogs--this is a bad description but it's not wrong
Relationships: David Jacobs/Jack Kelly, Sarah Jacobs/Katherine Plumber Pulitzer, Spot Conlon/Racetrack Higgins
Comments: 18
Kudos: 22





	1. happy homecoming hugo

**Author's Note:**

> hello i'm writing this in a few days bc i love this idea and im lonely  
> this'll be short :)

_ David pulls into the parking lot of the ASPCA Adoption Centre. He takes a breath. The day he’s been waiting for his whole life is finally here. Everything is working in his favour: he’s got a steady work-from-home job, an apartment that allows pets, and there was a sale on pet supplies at Walmart. _

_“Okay, Les,” David turns to his younger brother who is vibrating with excitement. “We’re_ _gonna_ _look around. Don't get attached to the first dog you see. Be strong. And we’re only picking one that likes me.”_   
_“Shouldn’t the dog like me too?”_   
_“You’re leaving for college in a few months.”_   
_“So what?”_   
_“Get out of the car.”_

_ David unlocks the doors, and Les is off like a bullet. He follows him inside, and his ears are immediately assaulted by the sound of yapping and meowing from all corners of the room. Dogs and cats of all sizes and breeds were milling around in evenly sectioned off enclosures as people mingled with them. _

_ Les had settled into one enclosure filled with little yellow puppies, completely reverting to his baby voice as they clambered over them. David looks around. His heart almost can’t handle it. _

_A volunteer_ _walks_ _up to him. “Hi, welcome to the ASPCA. Are you looking to adopt today?”_   
_“Yes, I am.”_   
_“Fantastic, please look around and ask if you have any questions.”_

_ So _ _ David does. His eyes scan the sea of dogs and land on a little puppy in a corner enclosure. Speckled with black patches, the puppy looks up at him and wags his tail. David reaches into the enclosure to pet him, and he lets him. _

_“Is this a Dalmatian?” David asks._   
_The volunteer looks him over. “He was found on the side of a highway so we can’t be too sure but we think he’s a Jack Russel Dalmatian.”_

_ David looks at the puppy. The puppy looks at David. Something feels right. _

_ “Hey, Les,” David calls his brother. “What do you think of him?” _

_ Les runs up to them with a big grin on his face. “He’s adorable! He likes you?” _

_ The puppy jumps against the wall, his tongue out and tail wagging. _

_ “I think he does.” _

* * *

David watches as Hugo’s tail slowly increases its wagging speed. He grins, counting down the seconds.

The doorbell rings. Hugo loses his shit.

David chuckles, gently shoving his dog out of the way. He swings the door open to two sacks of dog food.

“Hi, Les.”   
“David,” Les says from behind the sacks. “Hold Hugo. These things are gonna slip out of my hands.”

David grabs Hugo’s collar and pulls him out of the way, the dalmatian whining to sniff out his second  favourite person. Les staggers to the dining table, and once the sacks are out of his hands, he turns to Hugo. “ C’mere , baby!”

David lets go, and Hugo bounds to the younger boy, nearly knocking him off his feet. Les laughs and furiously pets him. “Can you believe! Can. You. Believe,” he accentuates each syllable with shaking Hugo’s head.

“What should he be believing?” David asks.

“That it’s been three years since you brought home the best thing to happen to you,” Les says matter-of-factly.

David smiles, his chest filling up with warmth as he thought back to the first  day he brought Hugo back home. He wasn’t even called Hugo back then.

“Who’s coming tomorrow?” Les asks as he hunts through David’s cabinets for food.

“Just Sarah and Kath,” David says. “I don’t exactly have a lot of friends with dogs.”

Les frowns. “Isn’t that sad for Hugo?”

“Maybe. I only have one friend with a dog and she’s married to my sister with a dog.” Les manoeuvres his way around David to find a bowl for the box of cereal he got his hands on. David keeps talking, “No wait, Specs has a dog too. That's three friends.”

“ So your friends are your sister, her wife, and your vet? You need to get out more,” Les laughs, settling on the couch with a spoon and the bowl. Hugo pads over to him and sticks his nose up, trying to sniff at it.

“Ha  ha ,” David deadpans. “Get off my couch.”

“I’m just saying, it wouldn’t hurt you or Hugo to have more friends. Or even a boyfriend, ever thought about that? For you, not Hugo.”

“Tell me about college, Les.”

“Stop trying to change the subject!”

“Never.”

* * *

“You look beautiful, Hugo,” David beams at his dog who is now decked out in a yellow-and-black stripy bowtie. He ruffles his head and goes to check on the dog biscuits in the oven. 

He hears the door click open, and Hugo is off, barking at the top of his lungs to ambush whoever thought it wise to break into his home.

Sarah's delighted screams fill the house as David pulls the tray of  dog bone shaped cookies out. Katherine pops her head into the kitchen. “David!”

“Kathy!” David presses a kiss to her cheek and pulls her into a hug . “I’m so glad you guys could make it. Did you see Hugo’s bowtie? Tell me you don’t love it.”

“It’s adorable! I need one of those for Smokes. I think he gets jealous of Sarah constantly pampering Missy.”   
“She still does that?” David asks “What happened to loving them both equally?”   
“Your sister is a liar,” Katherine declares. “She’s going to be a terrible mother.”

They are interrupted by Sarah, who has come sliding into the kitchen with the three dogs at her heels. She is holding a box of cupcakes and some cloth. “What’s that about my mothering skills?”   
“They’re nonexistent,” Katherine confirms with a smirk.

“Firstly, rude. Secondly, David, I absolutely love Hugo’s little bowtie but you need to take it off because look what I got for all of them!” she singsongs the last few words, holding up the cloth.

David grabs and inspects it. They are dark green bandanas with the words ‘My Momma Loves Me’ printed in neon yellow cursive.

He makes a face. “No thank you.”   
“Aw, c’mon, that’s our homecoming gift for him.”   
“We politely decline, thanks,” he says, turning his attention to Sarah and Katherine’s dogs. “Hi, babies!”

Smokey Bear, Katherine’s rottweiler and local David enthusiast, jumps up and tries licking his face. He laughs and scratches him behind his ears. “How’s he been? No more ticks, right?”

“Not anymore. I think Missy scared him into getting rid of him.”   
“Yeah, that and medication,” Sarah snorts.

Hugo and Mississippi, Sarah’s brown husky, are tumbling over each other on the living room floor. Sarah opens the door to the backyard and all three  shoot out to play on the grass.

“Is Les coming? I know he hasn’t seen you guys in a while,” David says.

“Yeah, I think he is.”

They settle into David’s living room and talk for a while. Les shows up at some point, alternating between spending time with his family and the dogs. The dogs mostly stay outside, only coming in for water and a meat cake David had made. Sarah forces the dogs into the bandanas and makes them do a photo shoot, which they don’t particularly enjoy. After they wriggle out of the bandanas and run back to the yard, David returns to the living room with a bottle of wine and three glasses.

“Which one of you aren’t drinking?” Les asks.   
“You aren’t, bud,” Sarah reaches forward to pat his leg.   
“Wha\- why?”   
“You aren’t 21 yet,” David says as he pours some out for the rest of them.   
“I will be in three months!” Les protests.   
“You can’t ask us to break the law, Les,” Katherine says in mock shock as she accepts the glass. Les mutters something about adults under his breath and goes outside to play with the dogs.

“So, David,” Sarah says from her spot on the floor. “Kath’s buddy has opened up a new dog run in Central Park.  Wanna take them tomorrow? It'll be fun.”

“Aw, that sounds nice. I’m in. I'll just double-check with Specs that Hugo’s up to date on his vaccines and then we’ll go.”   
“Sure,” Katherine smiles. At this point, Les and the dogs troop back inside and head straight for the water. 

“Think it’s time we head home?” Sarah asks. Katherine nods and starts gathering up their things. “C’mon Les. Thanks for today, Daves. We'll see you tomorrow, yeah?”   
David nods. “I’ll call you.”

They all say their goodbyes, Smokey and Missy barely resisting putting their leashes on, and soon David is left alone in his apartment. Hugo is passed out on the couch, exhausted from the day’s activity. David smiles at the sight, leaving to call his vet.


	2. lady antebellum!

_ Jack didn’t usually like saying his dates didn’t go well, but this one... didn’t go well. He isn't too beat up about it, though. This was simply a swing and a miss – it happens sometimes. _

_ Unfortunately, she doesn’t feel the same way. He knows this because she’s clinging to his arm, laughing and giddily talking about... something. _

_ Jack nods absentmindedly, barely listening to her rambling and wanting nothing more than to drop her off at home and never see her again. They pass by a dark alley, and a strangled squeal sounds from the shadow. Jack stops, and she stops with him. “What’s wrong?” she asks. _

_“That sound... I think something’s hurt,” Jack says, craning his neck to see._   
_“You think so?”_

_ Jack pulls his arm out of her grasp and slowly walks into the alley. She doesn’t follow. _

_ “It’s dirty there, Jack,” she whines. _

_ Jack ignores her and looks around the garbage cans. There, in a ratty cardboard box, is a small puppy. She looks up at him. Jack  _ _ recognizes _ _ the terrified look on her face – he's had that same one _ _. Her leg is bleeding, and she lets out another squeal when she sees him. Jack crouches down and reaches out. The puppy looks terrified, her yelling increasing as Jack scoops her up. But as soon as Jack cradles her to his chest and the blood from her wound starts seeping into his shirt, she relaxes. She’s still whimpering but has calmed down considerably. _

_ Jack brings the puppy back out. She jerks back. “Jack, there’s blood on your shirt.” _

_ “She’s hurt,” he says, gently petting her. “Wanna go with me to the vet?” _

_“Right now?”_   
_“I just said she’s hurt.”_   
_“I thought we were_ _gonna_ _go back to mine, Jack.”_

 _Jack sighs. “I can’t. I guess I'll just drop you home then.”_   
_“Don’t bother,” she says, and he can tell she’s pissed._

 _“Aw, c’mon, don’t be like that.”_   
_“No, I mean it. Choose a mutt over me.”_

_ She stalks off, leaving Jack and the puppy on the sidewalk. “Don’t worry, buddy,” he whispers to the shivering baby. “I’ll take care of you.” _

* * *

“Best behaviour, alright?” Jack looks down at his dog. Lady’s mouth is open as she beams up at him. She trots with him to the entrance of the dog run, her lack of a leg catching some people’s eyes. 

“ Crutchie !” Jack calls out. At the other end of the park,  Crutchie looks up and his face lights up.

“Cowboy! Welcome to Central Bark,” he says as he walks over.

“I appreciate the name,” he chuckles. “Where’s Sunny?”

“Waiting for Lady, I think,” he nods to where his golden lab is sunning in the middle of the field.

“Well, Lady is here and ready to go,” he says. Lady is on her leash, jumping at the sight of her yellow friend in the field.

“I’m so glad. Hi, Lady,”  Crutchie reaches down to pet her and she willingly lets him. He opens the gate, and Jack walks her in.

“Alright baby, play nice, okay?” He kisses the top of her head. “Have fun.”

He unleashes her, and she immediately runs to Sunny. Sunny perks up as Lady sticks her nose near his butt, and soon they’re bounding away.

Crutchie gestures to the chairs on the side, and they sit. Jack takes in his surroundings. There weren’t a lot of people at the run currently. There was them, a couple with a beagle, and a guy with a terrier.

“It’s a good space, Crutch. Very cute.”   
“Thanks, I'm very proud of it.”   
“Ma seen it yet?”   
“Not yet. She wants to though.”   
“It’s her money going into this, I'd imagine she wants to.”   
“Dog parks are a sound investment, cowboy. She'll get her money back.”

Crutchie's phone dings and he pulls it out. “Oh, cool. They're almost here.  
"Hm?" Jack says. "Who?"  
"Katherine. She's bringing Sarah and her brother today. I haven’t seen them in a while.”

Jack's hums. “I haven’t seen either of them since the wedding. How're they doing?”

“They’re very happy," Crutchie says as he pockets his phone. "Hey, have you met David before?”   
“Not that I remember, why?”  
“No reason.” Crutchie catches sight of a small group of people approaching. “Oh, there they are. Kath! Sarah!”

Jack sees Katherine and Sarah wave at them, being pulled along by their two big dogs. Next to them is someone who Jack vaguely remembers seeing at the service and ceremony. They land up at the gate, their dogs straining against the leashes.

“ Crutchie !” Katherine squeals as she squeezes him. Sarah and Jack share a nod, all smiles. They had dated, briefly, in college before he and Katherine had gone steady for a bit. Everything ended on good terms, which was fine for them.

“Kelly,” Katherine says with a smile. “Would it hurt you to call every now and then?”   
“You know me, Katie,” he says, “I’m a wild child.”

“Never say that again,” Sarah says. “You know my brother, David.”

“I don’t think I do, actually. Nice to meet you, Davey.” Jack sticks his hand out, and it feels like David hesitates for a split second before he reciprocates. “You too, Jack.”

“You remember Smokes and Missy from the ceremony. I mean, how could you possibly forget the best ring bearer and flower girl in history,” Katherine grins as she scratches behind Smokey Bear’s ear. “This is David’s baby, Hugo.”

“Hiya, Hugo.” Jack reaches down to pet the patchy dog. “He’s beautiful, what breed is he?”   
David looks like a proud father would. “Jack Russell Dalmatian, probably. I adopted him so I'm not too sure.”   
“Aw, that’s nice,” Jack says as he scratches Hugo’s chin.

“Okay,”  Crutchie claps. “I'm gonna show Sarah and Katherine around and leave you guys to talk.  Wanna let go of the dogs?”

They nod and unleash the dogs into the park, and Crutchie walks the women away.

David and Jack stand in silence, looking out at the field dotted with dogs.

“Which one’s yours?” David asks.   
“She was just running- ah, there. Three-legged pitbull sniffing Missy’s butt,” Jack points. “Name’s Lady.”   
“Aw, that’s cute. Like Lady and the Tramp?”   
“Nah. Lady Antebellum.”   
“Oh, I see.”

They stay silent for a minute.

“I think we’re being set up,” Jack says.   
David startles at the sudden response. “What makes you say that?”

“Those three have been staring at us since they left.” Jack points to his brother and exes (badly) hiding behind a row of elm trees.

“I, uh...” David sputters, scratching the back of his head. “I don’t know what to do with that...”   
“Eh, I’ll bite. Wanna go for coffee after this? I know a pet-friendly café on 2nd Avenue.”

David looks taken aback. “You wanna go on a date with me?”   
Jack shrugs. “You seem nice. And you’re cute.”   
“You think I’m cute?”   
“Ain't that what I just said?”

David smiles and blushes. “I’m looking forward to it.” Jack smiles back, but the moment is soon over because Lady starts squatting in the middle of the run and Jack has to sprint over to clean it up before  Crutchie yells at him.


	3. dumpy's day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as you read this you'll realise i love dogs with stupid/matching names

_Race had just taken a big bite out of his hotdog when Albert starts shaking him by the shoulder. “Race Race_ _Race_ _Race_ _Race_ _-”_   
_“Piss off,” Race replies with his mouth full, slapping Albert’s hand away. “_ _Whaddya_ _want?”_   
_“Look,” Albert points, and Race follows his finger. Across the street from the hotdog cart they were at, in front of_ _Kloppman’s_ _, is a little sand-_ _colored_ _dog tied to the display window._

 _“What the hell?” Race mutters. He pockets the hotdog and grabs Albert. They cross the road and crouch down to see the dog. Albert extends his arms to pick him up but the dog immediately yaps and tries nipping at him._   
_“Hey!” Albert exclaims indignantly._   
_Race grins at him. “_ _Lemme_ _try.” This time when Race tentatively offers his hand to him, the dog sniffs at him and tries biting._

_ “Ow! Why- oh, I know.” He takes out the half-eaten sandwich and offers it to him. He immediately snatches it and begins tearing it apart. _

_“Klopp!” Race barges into the butchers and smacks his hands on the counter, Albert following closely behind. “What’s with the dog?”_   
_Kloppman_ _, now used to Race’s erratic behavior, doesn’t look up from the slab of meat he’s slicing. “Found him trying to steal from the display. I'm keeping him there till the pound takes him.”_

 _“You can’t do that!” Race says._   
_“Kid, if I can’t chop the animal or eat the animal then I don’t want the animal.”_

 _Race thinks it over for a second. “Then I’ll take him.”_   
_“Eh?” Albert asks. “You will?”_

 _“Yeah, why not? I could do with the company.”_   
_Albert shook his head. “Racer, you’ve not cared for a single thing in your life._ _Dontcha_ _wanna_ _start with a plant or something?”_

 _“They’re_ _gonna_ _send him to the pound, Al,” Race pouts, pointing at the skinny dog. “How could I not take that face home? Look at him.”_   
_“Race-”_   
_“Look at him!”_

_ Albert looks at the dog now watching them through the glass. He's comically bug-eyed _ _ and has what can be interpreted as a hopeful expression on his face. _

_“He likes me,” Race says. “I can make this work.”_   
_Albert considers it. “_ _Hngh_ _, fine.”_

_ Kloppman _ _ watches them, bored. “You  _ _ coulda _ _ did this outside,” he calls after them as they run to the waiting dog. _

_ Race unties the cord from around his neck and picks him up. The dog places his paws on Race’s shoulders and vigorously licks his chin. He laughs and hugs him a little tighter. _

_ “We’re  _ _ gonna _ _ have fun.” _

* * *

“I  wanna throw a party.”

Albert looks up from his book. “My birthday’s not for another two months.”

“Not for you, idiot,” Race rolls his eyes. “For Dumptruck. He's turning two.”

He closes the book and leans on the sofa’s arm. “There’s literally no way you could know that.”

“We can pretend, yeah?”

Albert had moved in with Race a couple of months after  Dumptruck entered his life.  Dumptruck's naming was and still is widely hated amongst his friends but Anthony didn’t care – Racetrack and Dumptruck. Power duo.

“Why now? Why not closer to when we rescued him from Klopp’s?”   
“Because I wanna party now.”

Albert thinks it over for a couple of seconds. “Eh, whatever. Happy birthday to Dumpy.”

“Yay!” Race cheers. “I think it’ll be nice. Plus, Dumpy deserves it. He's been through a lot.”   
“And yet you still named him Dumpy.”   
“Shut up, Al.”

Race unlocks his phone and scrolls to their group chat.

_ whats up losers _   
_ bday _ _ party 4 dumpy at mine _   
_ 6 this  _ _ sunday _ _ , u in? _

**_ Crutchie _ ** _ : I thought you didn’t know his birthday? _

**_ Albo _ ** _ : we don’t _

**_Jojo_** _: what_ _ulterior motives do you have bastard_   
_boy_

 _WHY can’t i just want 2 celebrate my dog_   
_who is turning 2_ _probably_

**_ Jojo _ ** _ :  _ _ riiiiiight _

**_ Elmer _ ** _ : we bring the dogs too rite _

**_ Romeo _ ** _ : obviously, moron _

**_ Specs _ ** _ : Ro and I are in _   
**_ Specs _ ** _ : And Walnut too,  _ _ obv _

**_ Elmer _ ** _ : my fam is in _

**_ Jack _ ** _ : can I bring my boyfriend _

**_ Albo _ ** _ : boyfriend? _

**_ Elmer _ ** _ : boyfriend?? _

**_ Jojo _ ** _ : boyfriend??? _

_ BOYFRIEND??? _

**_ Romeo _ ** _ : you mean boytoy _

**_Jack_** _:_ _no_ _I DON’T ro shut ur whore mouth_   
**_Jack_** _: things are going well and sadly he_   
_wants to meet_ _y’all_

**_ Albo _ ** _ : is he  _ _ tHe _ __ _ oNe _

**_Jack_** _: maybe_   
**_Jack_** _: but I don’t_ _wanna_ _jinx it_

 _o dang_   
_now this dude needs to come_

**_Jack_** _: nice_   
**_Jack_** _: btw he’ll bring his dog_   
**_Jack_** _: and also_ _kath_ _says she’s coming_

 _what's a_ _kath_   
_jk_ _nice_   
_why r u telling me, she’s on the group_

**_ Finch _ ** _ :  _ _ yesss _ __ _ partyyy _

**_Jack_** _:_ _yes_ _but her phone is fucking up_   
**_Jack_** _:_ _im_ _sitting w her_ _rn_   
**_Jack_** _: she says_   
**_Jack_** _: sarah and I are coming, hope ur place is_   
_equipped for big hairy dogs_

_ ofc it is, i live w albo _

**_ Albo _ ** _ : HEY _

**_Crutchie_** _: Sunny and I are in_   
**_Crutchie_** _: Need us to bring anything?_

_ nah I'll cook _

**_ Finch _ ** _ : @Albo _

**_ Albo _ ** _ :  _ _ dw _ _ I've got the  _ _ chinese _ _ place on speed dial _

_ man fuck all of u _

**_Mush_** _: we’re_ _comin_   
**_Mush_** _: blink says to give dumpy kisses_

_ blink can do it himself _

**_Blink_** _: blink will_   
**_Blink_** _: blink just wants to make sure dump’s_   
_getting all the love possible_

 ** _Albo_** _: seeing that race and dump r cuddling_   
_I think he is_

**_ Finch _ ** _ : way to make me jelly _

**_ Albo _ ** _ : keep it in your pants cortes _

“We need a cake,” Albert says out loud.   
“I was just gonna make it myself,” Race says as he scratches Dumptruck’s chin.

“Absolutely not. I'd rather feed Dumpy rat poison.”   
“My cooking’s not that bad!” Race protests.   
“Dumptruck had diarrhea for three days the last time you cooked him something.”

Race sticks his middle finger out as Albert opens up his laptop. “Let’s see, there should be a dog bakery somewhere... aha! There's one in Brooklyn.” He turns the screen toward Race as he squints to read it. “Bee’s Bakery? Why does that sound so familiar?”

“I  dunno ,” Albert says as he shifts the laptop back to him. “Ask the guys, they might’ve used them before.”

_ have u guys used bee’s bakery ever _

**_ Crutchie _ ** _ : That’s Spot’s bakery! _

_fr_   
_i haven’t seen him since the wedding_   
_shit that was_ _like,,_ _a year ago_   
_is he still_ _hot_

**_ Crutchie _ ** _ : I don’t know how to answer that _

**_Jack_** _:_ _kath_ _here_   
**_Jack_** _: yes, yes he is_

 _awesome_   
_do u think he’ll give me a discount_

**_ Crutchie _ ** _ : Probably not _

_ what if i flirt really hard _

**_Jack_** _:_ _ew_ _race_   
**_Jack_** _:_ _spot is THE worst person_   
**_Jack_** _: E V E R_

 ** _Crutchie_** _: You’re just saying that coz he's_   
_our brother_

**_ Jack _ ** _ :  _ _ *adopted brother _

**_ Jojo _ ** _ : you’re all adopted _

**_Jack_** _: that’s_ _beside_ _the point_   
**_Jack_** _: the point is_   
**_Jack_** _: it’s spot_

**_ Mush _ ** _ : let racer live stupid _

_ yeah stupid >:( _

**_Jack_** _: ugh fine_   
**_Jack_** _: go flirt w him_   
**_Jack_** _: see if I care_

_ thx jacko _

**_ Jack _ ** _ : but I’m telling him you have a micropenis _

_ don't u dare _

**_Jack_** _: too late_   
**_Jack_** _:_ _hehe_

“There goes your shot at a discount.”   
“I’m gonna kill him.”

* * *

A little bell jingles as Race enters the Brooklyn bakery. It's got a bit of a rustic feel to it, with wood-panelled walls and solid metal chairs. The display cases feature little cakes and pastries, and there’s a man rubbing down the counter in front of him. He looks up as the bell sounds and throws the towel over his shoulder. “Welcome to Bee’s Bakery, how can I- Racetrack?”

He grins. “The one and only.”

Spot lets out a laugh and leans on the counter. “Long time, eh Manhattan?”

Race is uncomfortably aware of how attractive Spot looks in an apron.

“You’re telling me.”

Spot nods. “Sit. You want coffee?”   
“Do I have to pay for it?”   
“Yep.”   
“Alrighty then.”

Spot disappears into the back, leaving the door slightly ajar. Race swings his legs on the barstool as he absentmindedly takes the store in more when something wet brushes against his leg. He yelps and falls off the stool, looking around for whatever touched him. 

His eyes land on a little bulldog sitting with his mouth open and panting heavily. Race breathes out in relief and reaches out to pet him. “Hey, little guy. I thought you were a slimy spider.”

“Race?” Spot comes out with two mugs and looks around. “What- oh man, Bee! Bad girl!”

“No, it’s okay,” Race says as he pulls the dog in closer, “she just startled me. This is Bee?”

“Yeah, she’s the whole reason I started the bakery,” Spot says. “You okay down there?”

“Yep,” Race reaches out for a mug and takes a sip. Spot continues standing, watching as Race scratches his dog’s neck. 

“So, did you come to say hi  or...? ”

“Oh, right.” Race blinks. “I need a cake for this Sunday evening.”

“Good thing you’re at a bakery then,” Spot jokes as he pulls out a little notepad. “What’s the occasion?”

“Birthday party for my dog.”   
“That’s nice, what’s the name?”   
“His name is Dumptruck,” Race beams.

Spot raises an eyebrow. “Dumptruck?”   
“Yeah, like Racetrack.”   
“That doesn’t make sense.”   
“It _does!”_

He rolls his eyes, and Race can almost see a smile playing on his face. “ So we have three different flavors-”

“You can pick one,” Race cuts in. “It’s a cake for a dog, he won’t really care.”   
“You sure?”   
“Yeah, I trust your judgement.”   
“Alright. Peanut butter and applesauce then?”   
“Whatever you say, Brooklyn,” he grins. Spot eyes him slightly suspiciously, the smile becoming more prominent. 

“Message on the cake?”   
“Oh, um... what do fourteen-year-olds like?”

“If I remember correctly, Naruto and sour patch kids.”

Race feels his ears heat up. “You remember that?”   
“Kinda hard to forget a twig trying some sort of Rasenshuriken on you,” Spot chuckles. Race laughs too, mentally burying his face in his hands. “I guess a simple happy birthday will do... although it’s not really his birthday – we rescued him so we don’t know - how about, ‘happy dump day’?”

Spot makes a face but nods nonetheless. “Alright. Uh, Dumpy, is a lucky dog. You can pick it up around lunchtime on Sunday.”   
Race stays silent for a second as the gears turn in his head. “Actually, would you like to come?”   
“Hm?”   
“To the party. Your brothers and Sarah will be there, and I'm sure the rest of the gang would like to see you again.”

“I dunno,” Spot muses. “You sure you’d want me there?”   
“Of course. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t. You and Bee are welcome at Casa Del Higgins-DaSilva-Denton.”

Spot chuckles. “Alright then. Text me the address?”   
“You got it. I'll pay you at the house. See you Sunday, Brooklyn.”   
“Later.”

Race pets Bee one last time and waves Spot goodbye. As he steps back into the crisp air, his heart beats slightly faster. He just smiles and turns to head home.

* * *

“Hi, take a party hat. Hello, take a party hat. Here's a party hat,” Race makes his way through the group of people in his living room, handing out the hats to everyone.

“We already put these on our dogs,”  Jojo says as she holds her up. “Why do we need these?”

“They’re for us, silly,” Race says as he slaps a green one on his head. “Today we’re  _ all  _ celebrating Dumpy, not just the dogs.”

“We had extra,” Albert says, emerging from the bedroom with a purple stripy hat on his head. “and Race just wants to get rid of them. Can I hear a collective ‘screw you, Anthony’?”

“Screw you, Anthony,” the group obediently responds as they snap their hats on. 

The fun group congregated in Race and Albert’s living room consists of Elmer, Smalls and their Shih Tzu, Daisy;  Jojo and her daschunds, Mario and Luigi; Finch and his beagle, Bagel; Mush and Blink who don't have a dog of their own but like being around other people’s; Crutchie, Sarah, and Katherine and their big dogs.

“What’s with all the trash in the yard?” Jojo asks Race as she leans against Albert. The backyard is littered with cardboard boxes and big PVC pipes in a seemingly haphazard manner.   
“Excuse you, I spent the whole of yesterday making that obstacle course,” Race says indignantly.

“He did it in thirty minutes this morning,” Albert whispers to Jojo.   
“Stop exposing me, bastard.”

“Romeo just called, they’re  gonna be a little late,” Elmer yells from the other end of the room. “Hey, can we let the dogs out? They're going a little crazy.”

“I was  gonna wait for the others but whatever, sure. Unleash the beasties!”

The beasties are unleashed. This isn’t the first time these dogs have played together so their humans are aware of who gets along with whom. Dumptruck dominates them all, while Smokey and Bagel sort of stick to a corner.

Inside the house, beer bottles are opened and chips are being passed around.

“Race, did you invite Spot?” Sarah asks as she checks her phone.   
“Yep,” Race says as he settles against Smalls leg. “Why?”   
“Nothing, I just didn’t know you guys talked.”

Race shrugs. “We haven’t since your wedding. But it was nice seeing him again.”

“I’ll bet.”

“Spot liked Race in high school, right?” Smalls asks, causing Race to whip his head around in shock. “Excuse me?”   
“Yeah, most of sophomore year.”

“I remember that,” Sarah says. “It was cute to see him have emotions.”   
“Did you not know, Race?”    
“ _No?_ Why did nobody tell me?”

“You were obsessing over Ethan; we didn’t think you would’ve cared,”  Crutchie shrugs.

Race blinks. “Oh. I guess.”

The rest of the conversation fades to the back of his mind as he runs through his high school life. Spot liked fifteen-year-old Race? Yikes. But also, what would that have been like? They weren’t in the same high school, and they only ever saw Race when he went over to the Larkin’s. 

His mind drifted to their high school life in general. It wasn’t all bad. When Denton had adopted him and  Albert, they had just turned twelve.  Crutchie and Jack had gotten adopted a couple of months earlier and when they found out they were all in the same school they were thrilled. Just like old times. That was where they met the rest of the gang too. Times weren’t simpler back then, just a lot more inconsequential.

“I’m just saying, if I had a dog, I wouldn’t exploit him for some dick,” Blink’s voice brings Race back to the present.

“You wouldn’t need to,” Finch points out. “Mush is already wrapped around your finger.”   
“Still. I wouldn’t mind a Dumpy of my own.”

“Why Dumpy?” Katherine questions. “Like I know why, but _why_ why?”   
“Why I named him Dumptruck?” Race asks.

Albert stuffs a handful of chips in his mouth. “Because my brother is an idiot. Next question.”

Race clambers onto the coffee table. “Listen, people. You tell me you don’t like how ‘Racetrack and  Dumptruck ’ sounds. It’s  _ pleasing _ , it’s  _ matching _ , it’s-”

“Get off my coffee table,” Albert deadpans. 

“My point is, it’s a good name and I stand by it.”

They all groan and throw their chips at Race, just as the doorbell rings. Race nearly falls over himself rushing to open it. He opens it to see Jack and who is probably his boyfriend, plus two dogs straining at their  leashes.

“Lady!” Race drops to the ground and lets her lick his face in its entirety. “So good to see you, baby girl. Who's this?” he asks, holding his hand out for the other dog to sniff.

“That’s Hugo, Davey’s dog. Anthony, this is my boyfriend, Davey.”   
“David,” Davey corrects. “Nice to meet you, Anthony.”

“Please, call me Race.” Race stands up and inspects him. “Wait, Sarah’s David?”   
“Jack’s now,” Jack says as David blushes. “That’s me. She already here?”

“Yep. I gotta say, I thought you were made up for a while. We've never seen you around before at all.”   
“Davey’s a man of the mind,” Jack proudly says. “He doesn’t need people.”   
“You don’t have to say it like that,” David says, looking slightly embarrassed but smiling nonetheless.

“Alrighty then, come on in.” He turns in the doorway, giving them and the dogs space to go past him.

“Leave the door open, Spot’s just coming,” Jack’s says as they walk in. Race breaks into a grin as he steps onto the porch. He watches as Spot shuts the trunk of a car on the opposite side of the road and tugs a leash. He catches him grinning as he reaches the steps. 

Race leans against the handrail. “Well wellwell, look what finally crawled outta Brooklyn,” he smiled.   
“What can I say,” Spot said, handing him a couple of boxes, “gotta experience the other end of the bridge sometimes.”

“Of course,” Race says, inspecting the boxes. “Why’re there two?”

"Ah,  Dumpy’s gift from our side. It's a new recipe for lamb patties.”

“Sweet! Come on in,” he says. Spot and Bee follow him into the foyer where everyone was seated.

“Guys, Spot’s here!” Race announces as he hurries to set the boxes in the kitchen. He hears the general chorus of ‘ hi’s ’ and ‘how are  you’s ’ directed at Spot. When he comes out Elmer and Smalls are already cuddling Bee, who looks like she’s having the time of her life. Hugo sits under David's chair, panting - apparently two minutes outside was more than enough for him.

“Chips on the table, beers in the cooler,” Race points them out. Spot thanks him and sits next to Sarah, who flings an arm over him and begins chattering.

Race watches him mingle with people he hasn’t seen in the range of days to months, and he can’t help but feel some sort of affection for the man.

“Hey, Racetrack,” Spot’s voice interrupts his pining. “Can I let Bee out?”   
“Yeah, go ahead. You'll need to make sure they play properly with her. I'll come with.”

They take Bee to the backyard, where the dogs are still sniffing and chasing each other. With the arrival of a new smell, some of the  dogs approach curiously, headed by Dumptruck.

“This one’s Dumpy,” Race says and points out everyone’s dogs to him. Spot listens earnestly. Once he's done he whispers to Bee to behave herself. He takes the leash off and Dumptruck sniffs her butt vigorously. After a solid fifteen seconds, he deems her worthy and she runs off with the rest of them.

Spot smiles as he watches them. “Thanks for the invite. I never get to do this with Bee.”

Race hums. “Of course.” He pauses momentarily. “It was nice to see you again, Spot.”   
Spot glances at him. “You too, Race.”

“So, did you really have a crush on me in high school?”   
Spot laughed hoarsely. “Who spilled?”   
“Smalls.”   
“Motherfucker,” he chuckles. “Yeah, I did. Stupid of me, huh?”

“Au contraire, I’m a goddamn delight,” Race grins cheekily as he leans back on his elbows. “You have good taste.”   
“That was actually a dip in my quality, I think.”

Race sticks a middle finger out at him and Spot returns it. This feels good and normal, and it’s something Race hasn’t felt in a while.

“Why didn’t you message after the wedding?” Race asks. Might as well get an answer now.

Spot hesitates for a second. “I... was scared. Seeing you again brought back a lot of memories I was trying to forget.”

Race cocks his head. “Like what?”

He looks skittish. “Look, we're talking for the first time in a while, can’t we just-” he’s cut off midsentence by Race pressing his lips against Spot’s. Spot leans into it for a second, almost instinctively, but immediately pulls away. “What the fuck?”

Race blinks. “I-”

Suddenly the patio door bursts open. “Dumpy! Bad dog!” Albert yells as he runs into the yard. Spot and Race look beyond to see  Dumptruck’s teeth fully sunk into Bee’s backside as she howls in pain.

At once, Spot is up and cradling Bee. She yelps and tries nipping at him but he stands his ground. The dogs are all barking, and their humans rush onto the grass to subdue them.

“Bring her in,” Albert guides Spot inside as the rest of them try and calm the dogs down with treats and petting.

Race is frozen to the spot. He just kissed Spot and his dog assaulted Bee. This was not shaping up well for him.

He is broken  out of his stupor by Smalls shaking him. “Hey, Racer, we need you inside man. Snap out of it.”   
Race shakes his head and follows her inside. “What do we need?”   
“He’s got his rabies shot, Spot, it’s okay,” Albert tries coaxing him but Spot isn’t having it. “Your fucking dog bit mine, how is it okay?”   
“He doesn’t usually,” Race offers but Spot glares him down so hard he’s scared to look at him again.

Katherine is on the phone to the vet’s when the door opens. “Hello gang, sorry we’re late. Walnut is here and- Jesus Christ, what happened?” Specs asks, handing his pug to Romeo and rushing to inspect the dog.

“ Dumptruck bit her,” Katherine says, bringing the phone down. “What do we do?”

“She needs to be properly looked at,” Specs says. “We need to go now.”

“I’ll drive,” Race offers, but Spot ignores him and pulls Specs along. “Sarah will drive us.”

Sarah jumps up and follows them wordlessly. The door slams behind them, and Race sinks to his knees.

He fucked up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :0 sorry not sorry

**Author's Note:**

> hmu on tumblr: newsies-of-new-yawk


End file.
